Anything You Want
by Kazulallan
Summary: Remember when Ziva rams that embassy car only to find out the guy they're after isn't in it? XD, well, this is how *I* think the converstation between her and Tony should have gone. I OWN NOTHING. Tiva, of course. Second Chapter up. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

"I would appreciate it if you would say that you were driving at the time of the accident."

"And why is that?"

"Let's just say another incident would_ not _look good on my dossier. I have some there already."

"Some implies more than one… How many?"

"Three!"

"… What's in it for me?"

"Hmmm… anything you want."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

A few minutes later…

"I am so sorry, Boss. This was all my fault. I should not have been driving at the time of the accident."

Tony is Ziva's bitch.


	2. Chapter 2

Tony woke up with a start. Cold sweat clung to his skin pretty much everywhere, leaving him shaky. He tried clearing his head, focusing on the remnants of the dream he'd just had. Needless to say, it involved Ziva. Also needless to say, it had something to do with the guilt he was feeling over letting her take the fall for the previous day's events. He looked over to the report sitting innocently on his bedside table. It simply sat there, mocking him, like some dirty secret.

He groaned and stumbled out of bed and into the shower. It wasn't long before he made up his mind. He knew what he had to do, and he didn't like it much – then again, she'd said 'anything.' With a Mossad officer, though, was it worth the risk?

* * *

The doors of the elevator opened noisily, letting the sea of NCIS workers flow out towards the bullpen. Tony wheeled around the desks, past Ziva's workstation. He dropped the file containing his report off in Gibbs' hands and kept walking towards the nearest pot of coffee.

His boss raised his eyebrows from behind him. "What, no 'Good morning'?" The sarcasm made Tony laugh for a moment – a short one, but it was nice. He felt a wave of relief when Timmy walked by with breakfast.

"Here ya go, Tony," he said, passing over a bag of bagels and a coffee.

Tony sighed happily and went back to his desk. What was done was done, so he put away the thoughts of the file and focused on enjoying every last morsel of his breakfast. He typed idly on his computer, scanning a possible case file, while the others talked about where Ziva might be. A few minutes later, the Mossad woman came walking passed. "Sorry, Gibbs, the Director wanted to speak with me."

"Don't apologize," Jethro scolded absentmindedly, now going over Tony's summary of the car crash they'd caused.

Another minute passed before Gibbs motioned at Ziva. "Hey, this true," he asked, eyebrows furrowed.

Ziva looked worried. "Is what, Gibbs-"

"This report. About the embassy?"

She shot Tony a glance, trying to gauge his response. "Um – perhaps. I have not read the report myself…"

"You both were there, Ziva, you should have the same story."

Ziva shuddered, thinking, no doubt of the consequences. Tony moved over beside her desk, subtly pretending to do other things. He tried to give her a 'don't worry' expression, but she wasn't looking.

"-Yes. Yes, it's true," she finally resigned.

Gibbs shot out of his chair and rounded their desks. He put one hand on either side of her chair. "Why the HELL would you let Tony drive," he demanded, beyond perplexed.

Ziva's eyes widened. "I – he said to trust him."

"And you believed him?"

"No, not entirely, but –"

"Never mind, I don't wanna know what possessed you to do what you did. It's done, now." He rolled his eyes, silent admiration for the boy appearing for a moment. Tony's heart leapt for joy. He smirked and stretched out in his desk.

* * *

The office had just closed for the night. Tony flipped the folder closed cheerfully. He whistled a song from Top Gun as he cleaned up his supplies.

"Tony."

His head shot up. There was Ziva.

"Yeah?"

"Why did you tell Gibbs yesterday that I was driving – and then say otherwise in your report?"

Tony thought back to his dream, the one where he hadn't made the more selfish choice right off the bat.

"I lied," he said.

"If you are doing this just because of what-"

"Ziva," he said, stronger now. He rose and looked her straight in the eyes. "I lied. I was driving that car… I'm sorry I almost got you in trouble."

Before he could change his mind, he grabbed his coat and swerved around her.

"Tony, wait."

He pivoted on his heel and paused.

Ziva smiled. "I promised you anything, correct?"

Tony thought about that. "Yeaaaaah?"

"Well then. What do you want?"

He shook his head. "I don't want anything, Ziva. I did the right thing."

"That's why I'm still making the offer, Tony. I appreciate what you did."

Tony smiled. "Thanks…"

After an awkward silence, he said, "do you wanna get dinner?"

"Is that your 'anything', Tony?"

"No. Just a question."

Ziva smiled, brown eyes dancing. "I'd love to. Tomorrow, though. I am tired, and no restaurant in their right mind would be open at this hour."

"You might be surprised," he laughed, still in disbelief. "So eight?"

She nodded. The long ponytail swayed with the action. "Eight."

Tony grinned getting into the elevator. Once the doors closed, he did a massive fist pump. A few floors down, Abby climbed in, raising her black eyebrows. "Someone's in a good mood."

"I have my reasons," he said slyly, thinking of how much he couldn't _wait _to get off work tomorrow.


End file.
